


The Capricorn’s Blizzard

by Immortes



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortes/pseuds/Immortes
Summary: This cat is independent, cold, and unforgiving. They are immersed in their secrecy and use it as a defense mechanism. They are brave enough to never run away but constantly afraid of their inner demons. Write about the time where they had to accept someone's help to fight their own inner demons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	The Capricorn’s Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> A CAC entry for Capricorn.

Storms were Darius’s companion; a feral tempest with howling winds, thunder that cleaved the world and lightning that flashed like a fire; high-speed winds relentlessly pounding the large warehouse that sheltered the Blackhounds. Rain poured down the alleyway sides, coalescing into icy, silver streams and puddles along the New England streets. The derelict hovel that he called home wasn’t much warmer. Most of the other Blackhounds didn’t find themselves up at such an ungodly hour, and their dark lithe forms; like night given flesh, were already in their quarters, sound asleep. That is..save for the two sentinels guarding the gates, their bright eyes piercing through the gloom of the downpour, alert and fierce despite the late hour and the rain pouring down their backs. They were among the fiercest of Vega’s soldiers, those selected to guard the black gates. 

As of now, Darius still had no idea what these scoundrels had done, where they had lived, that caused Vega to come knocking. They liked their secrecy, and claimed that the less anyone knew about them, the higher chance they came out of fights victorious. Secrets could be just as lethal as a well-placed killing bite, and Darius found no companionship in the malignant gleam that he so often saw. The two legs that occupied this area had something against stray cats, as it would seem; and any seen would either be taken away in a strange silver monster or driven off. The Blackhounds hadn’t suffered such a fate as of yet.

Darius hadn’t been in this group of rogues long, and his ‘nest’ was located closest to the freezing onslaught of wind and rain. The black tom shivered, cracking one of his pale golden eyes open, as yet another frigid gust swept over his body, trying in vain to stay warm by tucking his fish-like tail closer to him. The Blackhounds were a merciless group; as much of the cats were eliminated in fighting as from the horrible conditions. But that was how natural selection - how nature worked. The law was: kill or be killed, an emblem of bloodlust stood above them all. It’s why the Blackhounds rarely had visitors. As for the other gangs in the area...the smart ones stayed out of Vega’s way. The smarter ones were the ones who bowed before the sleek white tom. The shiver fading, Darius shut his optics once more and once more attempted to return to the black oblivion of slumber. 

But had he closed his eyes then, he might’ve missed her. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated on the far side of the street a shadowy silhouette; a female cat with her head raised high. Her eyes fixated on the storm of lightning and storm clouds above as if there was nothing more beautiful. She was mere inches away from the border of Hellhound territory, which was a dangerous place to be. He only really saw her for half a second before blackness once again obscured his vision. Darius pricked his ears, straining to see whether or not the two guards had seen anything. They hadn’t. Lucky her. Despite himself, Darius cracked another eye open; his gaze was searching as he probed the night for any indication the molly was still there. The crepuscular outline indeed stuck out through the night, as if each individual hair on her pelt glowed with ethereal light. She hadn’t strayed an inch, and Darius doubted that the girl was so weak-willed as to bend, even from threats. 

The pale silhouette, whoever that cat was, was sure to haunt his dreams from now on. He thought it silly to count on her to stick around; unless she was deliberately looking for trouble, cats never lingered. He poignantly added her mysterious presence to the list of things that would be watching him. 

The night was not a time that Darius associated with peace. He had never seen the stars as peaceful spirits, and the night as a peaceful black veil. And maybe it was too much to be associated with the impact that Vega had on his perspective, but Darius associated the night with mystery, sinful passions, and demonic mastery. 

He associated it with death. With cats that he’d laugh with by breakfast winding up as corpses by dinner. Only a fool could completely buy into the alabaster tom's cruel promises and honeyed words without seeing some glimpse of the hellish madness beneath. Even Darius did not fully believe in his leader’s silken promises laced with feral rage. 

The nightmares came for him every night, and soon the darkness dragged him deep, deep down into hell. Into a cold, thrashing misery. Claws scraped stone as horrific, deformed monsters - were they cats even - lunged for his throat. Mangled corpses surrounded him, cats he might’ve considered to be family or friends or loved ones. But surrounding him, stifling his breathing until it stopped completely, was the brutal, foul and noxious stench of death. Well, Darius wasn’t scared of the death, but seeing these cats. Seeing their glassy eyes staring up at him – he’d failed them, hadn’t he? But, like most dreams, he felt like he was reliving the moment; the specter that he’d become simply ghosted around, seeing their wide open eyes and mouths, the blood matting their fur as it poured over the ground, over him in a suffocating, crimson tide.

The fae was there when Darius was jerked up to go on dawn patrol by some of the other combatants in his group. Her tail twitched silently as she saw the brute approach, bright clover-green into dark brown. He soon got to know her by the name of Eden, a cunning lass who knew the streets better than anyone. Seductive in aura and mysteriously dangerous by nature was likely the best way to describe her. She was a siren from an old children’s fable, enchanting him, teaching him and remarkably..listening to all the crap that he had to put up with. To the nightmares as well; and she was there...or her essence was when he jolted up at night. It haunted him, nonetheless, to feel the aura of those piercing clover-green eyes staring at him through his mind when he awoke, but he was grateful. 

A gift. All of it. 

  
  



End file.
